Cupid's Arrows
by ohnice1
Summary: (AU) Rachel Berry is Cupid and she's having a REALLY hard time shooting Quinn Fabray's arrows properly. One-shot.


So, hi. Happy Valentine's Day. Here's this fic. I hope it makes you smile.

Dedicated to my amazing girlfriend. Happy Valentine's Day hon, I love you. Sorry this wasn't the fic you were hoping for ;)

Prompted by Angie and beta'd by Steph. Thanks guys!

* * *

Sometimes, being Cupid really sucks. First of all, she doesn't even have real wings, just some stupid little wing tattoo that randomly appeared on her wrist one day when she was like twelve. Okay, sure, shooting someone with an arrow and then seeing two people swoon and drool over each other can be nice and fulfilling and all that (but also gross). The problem? Rachel Berry's aim really sucks. It's not like she received some kind of extensive archery training. And, admittedly, her timing kind of sucks, too. Whatever, she gets an arrow with somebody's name on it and then shoots somebody who seems good for them, and then it's _Fate's_ job to handle the rest, not hers. It's not her problem if the fact that she sucks at her job makes Fate have to work way harder. Hmph.

Of course she's never going to stop feeling sorry for the fact that she kind of sort of accidentally shot Mister Schuester with Emma Pillsbury's arrow way too soon, _thank you very much_. Yes, she knows she should have waited until his already deteriorating marriage was _actually_ over, but Ms. Pillsbury was just pining for him so much that it was hard to watch, okay? It worked out...eventually. If only the powers that be had bothered giving her an arrow with Mister Schuester's name, too, the whole debacle with that attractive dentist guy could have been avoided!

She's had a few successes, of course. Sometimes she shoots someone random with an arrow and everything works out perfectly without her ever even laying eyes on the person whose name appears on her arrow. But, well...for her, that's pretty rare. She hears other Cupids are much better at that.

So, yes, Rachel Berry is no Cupid extraordinaire, but if you think the Mister Schuester story is bad, just wait until you hear about poor Quinn Fabray.

* * *

Playing Cupid for Quinn Fabray has to be the most difficult job on Earth. She seems to have no _actual_ interest in boys whatsoever, and all she ever really does in Celibacy Club (Rachel can't believe that's a real club) is talk about how tempting the cheerleading skirts are. Weird.

Anyways, when Rachel gets the arrow pristinely marked for Quinn Fabray in late 2009, she's more than a little surprised. Seriously? She has to find a soulmate for a sixteen-year-old? How irresponsible.

So, first, she decides to try this Kurt Hummel boy. Sure, he's a little effeminate, but his fashion sense is decent and he _seems _nice. Two days after getting the arrow, she takes aim one day in the parking lot before school. Kurt's walking in from his absurdly oversized SUV (which doesn't suit his personality at all, Rachel thinks) and she has a nice, clear shot, so she pulls back on her bow and lets go.

Unfortunately, that really tall kid on the football team grabs Kurt and gets in the way, so the arrow hits really tall kid right in the butt instead.

"Darnit!" Rachel mutters, moving behind another car to get a closer look. Why can't her stupid invisibility last at least a little while after she actually shoots the arrow?

Really tall kid is grabbing his butt cheek and wincing, and Rachel gets a tiny amount of satisfaction at watching Kurt prance (wow, okay, he's prancing, maybe it's a good thing she missed?) away as really tall kid continues grabbing his rear and looking around for a culprit.

The next day, really tall kid (Finn Hudson, she finds out later) and Quinn are holding hands in the hallway. Rachel beams with satisfaction; mission accomplished. Time to enjoy a break and wait for a new person's arrow.

A month later, she's breezing through the hallway, enjoying a very much needed long break from her duties shooting arrows by simply keeping an eye on Fuinn (she found coming up with code names for couples made the whole process rather more enjoyable).

Rachel spies Fuinn at the other end of the hall and is not happy when she sees Quinn jabbing a finger into Finn's chest as she addresses him loudly. "I'm smart, you're dumb. I'm right, you're wrong."

When Rachel reaches her locker, there's a new arrow inside.

_Quinn Fabray_

* * *

As it turns out, Quinn Fabray is freaking _pregnant _and it's not even really tall kid's (Rachel had taken to calling him that in her head out of bitterness once she knew the arrow that hit him didn't seem to work) baby. Then, Rachel had to spend an absurd amount of time (okay, three days) finding out who the real baby daddy was.

Baby daddy.

Baby daddy!

Sorry, Rachel likes that phrase. And, yes, baby daddy? He has a _mohawk_! A mohawk!

Anyway, who better to shoot with arrow number two than baby daddy Noah Puckerman, right? It will be like every teen television and movie cliché ever, and they'll be bonded for life by both love and child.

Wrong.

If it's even possible, shooting Noah Puckerman turns out worse than shooting really tall kid. He and Quinn have approximately two nice moments over the course of their entire relationship, and honestly, Quinn seems to really resent him not only because she's carrying his spawn, but also because he continuously interferes with her relationship with bacon.

Whatever. Maybe Quinn and mohawk guy can work it out when her pregnancy hormones settle down? She starts feeling hopeful when Noah (no, she will _not_ call him "Puck" like everyone else does. Pucks are for baseball, not human names.) tells Quinn he loves her shortly after Quinn gives birth. Quinn smiles, Rachel swoons for three seconds, and all seems right.

Three months later, just days after school begins, she gets her next arrow.

_Quinn Fabray_

She bangs her head against her locker door until Miss Pillsbury walks over and stops her.

* * *

Well, at least now, she's trying to matchmake for a seventeen-year-old, right? The problem is, Rachel pretty much knows every guy at this school by now, and let's be honest—none of these guys are good enough for Quinn.

She's smart, funny, beautiful, has a great voice, beautiful, popular, beautiful...Rachel sighs. What on Earth is she going to do?

Going back to her original choice, Kurt, isn't an option: he came out of the closet about a week after Rachel intended to set him up with Quinn. Oops? She prays she'll never get an arrow with his name on it, because her gaydar is pretty much nonexistent.

Back to Quinn, though. Rachel's starting to get really concerned for poor Quinn's romantic future, but then she sees him.

Blond, cute, athletic, smart enough to get by in life (smarter than really tall kid and mohawk guy, at least). Yes, he's the one!

She retrieves Quinn's newest arrow from her locker and searches the school for Sam Evans. Thank goodness holding the bow and arrow makes her invisible, or she'd be in big trouble when she has to follow him into the locker room after football practice. What she sees when she gets there? Yeah, that's kind of a problem.

He's naked, in the shower, talking to Kurt Hummel (who is not naked or actually in the shower, but still). Well, not that her gaydar has a very good track record, but Sam didn't seem gay.

She shoots him anyway, and cackles a little when he jumps from the pain and Kurt looks at him like he has six eyes. She clamps a hand over her mouth, panicked; she may have been invisible when she shot him, but she's not silent, unfortunately.

The good news is, Sam isn't gay! Rachel rejoices. The bad news is, Quinn seems about as uninterested in him as she did in really tall kid and mohawk guy.

Rachel is in despair; what's the problem? Sam is sweet, attentive, popular, cute. How could she have chosen so wrong?

She feels a glimmer of hope when the duration of Fabrevans (way better than her original nickname for them, "Quam," which sounds like some kind of overly processed meat substance) surpasses all of Quinn's other arrow-induced relationships.

Then, it happens. Quinn's kissing really tall kid and she didn't even break up with Sam.

"Are my arrows working against each other?!" Rachel exclaims to herself in the middle of the hallway.

"Talking to yourself is a sign of insanity, dwarf," Santana Lopez taunts as she breezes by. That girl needs an arrow yesterday.

Sam breaks up with Quinn, and Rachel knows what's going to be in her locker.

Only it isn't...until a year later.

_Quinn Fabray_

* * *

This time, Rachel has no idea what she's going to do. She has no prospects for Quinn's next suitor, so what does she decide to do?

Shoot her arrow into a crowd, of course. She almost misses completely, which would get her in _huge_ trouble with the powers that be, because then her arrow would just lie on the ground for anyone to see. Rachel really doesn't understand why those things aren't on a disappearance timer instead of having to hit someone first. Clearly this idea was not developed with a Cupid like Rachel Berry in mind.

...back to the story. So, she almost misses completely, which would send her running after her arrow in desperation (at least she's wearing a pantsuit and not a skirt today), but at the last minute, it grazes the butt of a boy she's never even seen before...and he definitely hasn't been around long, because there's no way she could forget those absurd dreadlocks if she'd seen them before.

It only takes three days and the most ridiculous rumor ever about this kid rubbing his boner against Quinn's leg during a square-dancing lesson in P.E. class before it happens again. She doesn't even have time to enjoy the fact that the name she's come up with for this particular couple is "Fart."

_Quinn Fabray_

* * *

This time, Rachel decides to be patient. After all, there's no time limit on these arrows, and why rush it, right? Quinn's at Yale now (so, naturally, Rachel is as well...that's kind of how this thing works), enjoying the college life, and this makes it so much easier for Rachel to find someone _worthy_ of Quinn's attention. Someone smart, attractive, honest, passionate, and able to keep up with Quinn's sarcasm. She'd now shot four different boys and failed four times; something needed to be totally different this time.

Only, sometimes, after a lot of failures, the powers that be get a little impatient and start to work together with Fate to intervene and speed up the process. And, naturally, Rachel's not the only Cupid in the world (thank goodness, or there would be a lot of lonely people, because she's clearly not a very good one).

It's Valentine's Day 2013 when she finally decides to use Quinn's newest arrow. There's a guy, a senior, who Quinn has been talking to more frequently lately and he's just _perfect_, Rachel thinks. Tall, fit, kind, and maybe even smarter than Quinn. They're sitting on a bench outside one of the dining halls, and Rachel thinks he may already be in the process of asking her out (it's the day of love, after all); the timing couldn't be better. "Finally," she whispers to herself, setting Quinn's arrow in her bow.

Just as she raises her bow to take aim at the love of Quinn's life, Quinn jumps off the bench and squeaks in pain. Rachel can hear the guy concernedly asking if Quinn is okay, and she replies that she indeed is. What the heck was that? It's way too cold for bees, and she definitely didn't accidentally shoot Quinn with her own arrow (no, definitely not, it's still in the bow, she notices with relief). Rachel takes aim and tightens her bow.

"What the hell do you think you're doin'?" a voice behind her inquires suddenly.

Rachel is so startled that she jumps a foot off the ground and releases her bow without thinking.

The arrow goes straight into her own foot.

"Oooh girl, you're in trouble now," the stranger chides.

"And who are you?" Rachel asks through a wince. These arrows hurt way more than she expected.

"Well I guess you'd know that if you'd bother to show up for any of our trainings and meetings."

"Excuse me?" Rachel is now not only in excruciating pain, but totally confused.

The other girl sighs. "You really need to get over this MySpace crap and get in the damn Cupid Facebook group, girl."

Cupid? "Oh!" Rachel realizes suddenly. "You're a Cupid!"

"Duh," the other Cupid responds, "how the hell else you think I can see you when you're holding up your bow and arrow? I'm Mercedes."

"Hello Mercedes."

The pain in Rachel's foot has subsided a little, but she still feels totally clueless. There's a Facebook group? "What are you doing here?"

"Let's just say our bosses weren't too happy with you hanging on to one arrow for so long and they sent me here to move things along. Well, and to shoot an arrow of my own."

Rachel huffs indignantly. "Well, you've failed! I shot myself, if you didn't notice!"

Mercedes shrugs. "I guess we'll see what happens with that then."

"I suppose so," Rachel agrees. "Who are you here shooting, anyway?"

"Oh, see that blonde girl over there, sitting on the bench?"

Mercedes is pointing directly at Quinn. "Quinn Fabray?"

Mercedes looks surprised. "Yeah. You know her?"

"You might say that." Rachel pauses, reflecting momentarily. If she could find out the name on the arrow Mercedes shot, maybe she could find out who she really needed to be shooting with the next arrow for Quinn that she'd be getting any moment. After all, if Fate was intervening and using Mercedes...

"Hey, Mercedes, whose name was on the arrow you shot Quinn with?" Rachel asks as innocently as she can.

"Some girl named Rachel Berry. Normally I'm pretty bad at shooting girls for girls, but the boss pretty much told me what to do on this one so it's all good. He said, 'don't you dare try any funny business, you find Quinn Fabray and shoot only her with this, do you understand me?' Sometimes I get a little crazy with my arrows."

Rachel gulps. "Are you sure?"

"That I get a little crazy?"

"No, about the girl's name!" Rachel exclaims impatiently.

Mercedes rolls her eyes. "Have _you_ ever read the name on an arrow wrong? Those things are practically neon signs. Anyway, I'd better go. More people to shoot and all, busiest day of the year," she explains with a fake yawn. "What's your name, anyway? They didn't tell me."

"Um, Barbra," Rachel stammers.

"Cool name," Mercedes deadpans. "See you later, Barbra!"

After Mercedes leaves, Rachel stares blankly into the distance for a while.

A soft voice suddenly interrupts her daze. "Excuse me?"

"Quinn!" Rachel blurts absurdly, jumping off the ground at the sight of the other girl.

Quinn looks taken aback. "How do you know my name?"

"Oh, um, I'm in one of your lectures, I just heard someone say it once. I'm _great_ with names," she fibs, praising herself mentally.

"Oh, okay," Quinn smiles and seems pleased with this explanation. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright, I heard you shout a few minutes ago and then you were just sitting here..."

Had she shouted? Oh, duh, the arrow. "Yes, I'm fine! I just...uh, rolled my ankle. Yes, I stepped on that root right over there and it just rolled right out from under me."

"Oh! Well, do you want me to take a look at it? I used to be a cheerleader and must've done that a dozen times."

Rachel gulps audibly. "Sure," she agrees quietly.

Quinn lifts up Rachel's pants just far enough to get a look at her ankle and then looks at it closely. "Well, it's not swollen. Not yet anyway, so that's good!" she offers with a smile. "Can I help walk you to the dining hall to get some ice for it?"

"S-sure," Rachel stutters. "Why are you being so nice to me? You don't even know me." 'But I know you,' she finishes in her mind. Well, that's kind of creepy-sounding.

Quinn looks genuinely confused for a minute. "I don't know, I just had a feeling you needed help," she answers with an easy smile. She helps Rachel stand and then puts an arm around Rachel's waist to steady her. "Any pain?"

"Nope," Rachel answers lamely. "I mean, a little, of course. But I'm not going to die or anything."

Quinn laughs heartily and it is _angelic._ "Well then let's get you some ice."

Halfway to the dining all, nearly to the bench she'd been aiming at not so long before, Rachel has an epiphany. "You didn't even ask me my name."

"Oh, right!" Quinn shakes her head. "Of course. You already knew mine and I forgot to ask yours. What's your name?"

"Rachel Berry."

"Well, Rachel Berry, it's lovely to meet you. Uh, officially," she says, sounding actually delighted. "And minus the fact that your pain brought us together, of course."

Suddenly, Rachel feels a slight burning on her wrist, but she remains composed, because having a fake ankle injury and real wrist pain was just way too much for her. She checks it discreetly.

The cupid wing tattoo is gone. That only happens when a Cupid's name is on an arrow and that arrow finds its target! Or, well, if a Cupid goes totally crazy, but Rachel knows she's not _that_ bad at this.

It takes every ounce of willpower she's ever had to maintain her composure again. She must fail a little, because Quinn asks her again if she's okay. "Amazing," she says, somewhat dreamily, smacking herself internally. 'Way to go, Berry,' she chastises herself.

"Limping to get ice for an injury and you're amazing. I'd love to see you on a normal day," Quinn teases.

"I'm sure you will."

"Yeah," Quinn agrees, sounding confident, "I'm sure I will."

* * *

Don't worry, I know that pucks are for hockey, not baseball. But Rachel doesn't. Ew, sports.


End file.
